27th November: A Day

I cried last night after a long time and prayed that someone called Puloma Baral was all right. Her mother was on the phone and I could not cry because she was and as she talked to me a life flashed before my eyes... in living colours I saw this girl who grew up with me and was the salient member of a gang which we would adoringly call Scarlet.

I have two friends: One at Taj and the other at The Oberoi, Mumbai. Sabrina was accessible and responded immediately to my query. Pulo was not. Her phone was switched off and her mother was hysterical.

We did not know what to do. All I did was stare at the TV to watch the destruction of faith. My friend told me that it made her stomach turn over to see it. I switched off the TV after I saw the hotel room on fire. I could not bear it, and to top it all, news came that five chefs were murdered, and since Puloma's a chef, we were terrified.

I hated the TV channels which try to show reality and end up dramatizing and not revealing the truth. I hate that news man who saw my friend run out of the hotel, with blood pouring out of her head and her ankle and never came to help, though she asked. I will not forgive that person who turned a blind eye (THE CAMERA) to her as she ran out and tried to find help. Now she is safe but what about those hours?

If I sound vengeful and angry, but its reaction, I know.